


proprioception

by copperwings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, soft boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 10:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperwings/pseuds/copperwings
Summary: “So. What are we going to do?” Keith asks. “We have a full day and no responsibilities.”Shiro laughs. “Uh. I have no idea?” It’s been so long since he’s had a day off. There are no days off when your occupation is saving the universe, so he needs to think back before the Kerberos mission. “What did we used to do for fun?”Keith chuckles. “I don’t even remember what fun is.”“That’s because you’ve never been fun,” Shiro jabs with a laugh. He anticipates the reaction and manages to grab Keith by the wrist before he gets punched in the shoulder. Having a prosthetic that moves beyond the limits of human joints comes in handy every now and then.





	proprioception

**Author's Note:**

  * For [forwardpass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forwardpass/gifts).



> My friend is having a shitty week and I wanted to cheer them up with some fluff. ♥

Over the course of the years, they have been a lot of things. Friends, co-pilots, brothers-in-arms, and now lovers.

The last development happens slowly, so naturally that the shift from friendship to something more is not so much a defined line as it is a blurry gray area where they step back and forth, often out of sync. When one of them reaches, the other retreats, so it feels like they’re grasping at thin air.

But it’s a necessary part of the path that finally leads them to each other. When everything slides into place, Shiro looks back at their journey and realizes they _haven’t_ been out of sync. Not really. He just hasn’t seen how the connection between them has changed to fit the different parts of their journey.

He looks back and realizes that Keith has always been there, adjusting to what Shiro needs. Just like Shiro has adjusted to what Keith needs, although he only sees it when they’re back on Earth and the war is over. When the dust settles, Shiro understands how their relationship has evolved and moved forward, even when he thought it was moving backward and distancing them from each other.

It’s a dance that has expanded over several years and multiple galaxies. One of them moves and the other adjusts to this without conscious thought, moves accordingly without even looking. It’s like they’re two halves of the same system, subconsciously aware of each other on a level Shiro can’t even begin to describe.

So, a few weeks after the final battle, when Keith pushes close and they share a shaky breath before their lips connect, it doesn’t come as a surprise.

It just feels like a natural next step in the continuum of their relationship.

 

-

 

“So. What are we going to do?” Keith asks. “We have a full day and no responsibilities.”

Shiro laughs. “Uh. I have no idea?” It’s been so long since he’s had a day off. There are no days off when your occupation is saving the universe, so he needs to think back before the Kerberos mission. “What did we used to do for fun?”

Keith chuckles. “I don’t even remember what fun is.”

“That’s because you’ve never been fun,” Shiro jabs with a laugh. He anticipates the reaction and manages to grab Keith by the wrist before he gets punched in the shoulder. Having a prosthetic that moves beyond the limits of human joints comes in handy every now and then.

“That arm is an unfair advantage,” Keith grumbles under his breath.

“I don’t remember you complaining about it last night,” Shiro says innocently.

Keith groans. “Shut up.”

Shiro laughs and releases Keith’s wrist. “So, fun?”

They look at each other and Shiro sees the same idea blink into existence behind Keith’s eyes at the same moment when it hits him.

“Hoverbike race?” Shiro asks.

Keith nods. “Hoverbike race. I think I promised to beat you at it.”

Shiro gives him a measuring look and raises one eyebrow. “Too bad it’s not going to be today.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.” Keith’s eyes twinkle in that way they do when he gets competitive.

Shiro offers him a hand. “C’mon then.”

They walk down to the hangar hand in hand, and Shiro loves how no one even blinks at the sight anymore.

Not that anyone was _that_ surprised when they announced the big news, though. Shiro smiles as he recalls the reactions of the other paladins and the delicious shade of red Keith turned upon hearing them.

“About time,” Pidge stated.

“Is this supposed to be news?” Hunk asked.

“I think it was news to _them_ ,” Allura said, tapping her chin. “Not so much to us, though.”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought you guys were already married?” Lance teased. “I was a bit hurt I wasn’t invited to the wedding, but, you know…” He spread his hands and then ducked away from Keith’s swatting hand, laughing.

As for the rest of the Garrison, no one has said anything. Either they don’t care what Shiro and Keith do behind closed doors, or they have concluded that it’s best not to risk angering the two men who between them hold more firepower than the rest of the planet combined.

Shiro holds back an amused smile. Sometimes being the captain of the Atlas has its perks.

They check out two Garrison hoverbikes for the day.

The bikes look different these days. The Holts have been making improvements to all gear they’ve gotten their hands on, and the hoverbikes are no exception. The design is smaller and streamlined to reduce the air resistance.

“You think you can fly this thing?” Shiro asks, grinning as they mount the bikes.

Keith gives him a dry glare and powers up his bike. “Try to catch me, old-timer.”

The competition is more even than their races in the past, but like everything else, it feels natural. They’ve come a long way, and racing Keith as his friend, partner and an equal is more exhilarating than the fact that Shiro can still beat him.

Keith lands his hoverbike on the edge of the cliff only a second after him, and Shiro has just enough time to raise his goggles and cast a victorious grin before Keith hops off his bike, tosses his goggles on the seat and marches over to where Shiro is leaning on his bike.

The desert looks the same as before, but the kiss they share tastes new.

“Looks like I’m still undefeated,” Shiro says against Keith’s lips.

“Shut up,” Keith replies and kisses him again.

After they break apart, Keith’s arms keep him in a tight hold and they look at each other. The desert wind blows wisps of hair around Keith’s face, and even in the harsh light of the sun from directly above he’s so gorgeous that Shiro’s chest feels tight. He traces Keith’s jawline with his thumb, taking in the familiar sharp features. The scar tissue on the side of Keith’s face has faded over time, and the texture has turned from rough to smooth. Shiro slides his thumb over the scar, and there is a different kind of tightness in his chest when he thinks about how he almost lost Keith that day.

Keith bumps his nose against Shiro’s. “Stop it.”

Shiro gives him a sheepish grin. “Stop what?” he asks even though he already knows the answer.

“You’re thinking about the scar again.” Their foreheads press together, and Keith’s eyes are steely as he locks his gaze with Shiro’s. “Stop it.”

Shiro has flashing memories of the fight, but only a few seconds he can recall with vivid accuracy; the seconds when he pressed down with a searing blade and gave Keith his scar, and the following declaration that Keith has since said over and over again. Shiro can’t stop thinking about the scar, because it’s simultaneously the ugliest and the most beautiful memory of his life. The first few seconds of it grate his insides, but the seconds following them mend his soul over and over again.

“I don’t wanna stop thinking about it,” he tells Keith. “It’s the first time you told me you love me.”

Keith sighs and does that thing where he lifts one side of his mouth in an exasperated half-smile. “Fine. But stop looking at me like I died, when _I_ wasn’t the one who died.” He pokes an accusing finger into Shiro’s ribs.

Shiro laughs. “But I came back for you,” he says.

The look in Keith’s eyes softens, and a brief blush creeps across his cheeks. “Yeah. Because you know I would have killed you if you died,” he states.

Shiro can’t remember a time when he smiled as much as he smiles these days. It’s a good feeling.

“Love you,” he mumbles and seeks Keith’s lips again.

Keith smiles against his mouth. “You’re such a sap,” he says. “Love you too.”

Their tender moment is interrupted by a loud grumble from Keith’s stomach, and they break apart, laughing.

“So, now that we’ve established that I’m still the undefeated king of hoverbike racing, I guess lunch is in order,” Shiro says.

Keith huffs, already heading to his bike. “Race you?”

“You want to lose again? Fine by me,” Shiro remarks.

They turn their hoverbikes around and settle side by side, facing the valley of sand they flew across a moment ago. They count down from three together and kick the bikes off the ground at the same moment. They move in unison, like on some level they’re still connected to each other by the strings of the astral plane.

They race back to the Garrison neck and neck. Shiro keeps glancing at Keith because the carefree smile on Keith’s face is worth the risk of losing the race. Keith and the rest of the paladins were forced to step up in the face of danger, and the stress of bearing the fate of the universe on their shoulders has taken its toll on all of them. It’s good to see Keith smile like this again, free of the burden of responsibility for the moment.

They touch down outside the garrison hangar at exactly the same moment.

“Draw?” Shiro asks, pushing his racing goggles up to his forehead.

Keith purses his lips. “I’ll get you next time,” he swears.

After dropping off the bikes, Shiro starts walking toward the canteen, but Keith’s hand on his arm stops him.

“Come,” Keith says. “I wanna show you something.”

“What about lunch?” Shiro asks. “I thought your stomach was about to start eating you from the inside or something.”

Keith shrugs and looks awkward. “Just come on.”

They take the elevator to the top floor and then Shiro finds himself led up the stairs to the roof.

The door at the top is locked so the cadets can’t get through, but they both have an electronic key that grants them access.

Not that lack of keys ever stopped Keith from getting to where he wants to go, but having a key certainly makes things easier.

Shiro wonders why Keith wants to take him up there, but then they cross to the other side of the elevator shafts and his question is answered.

A tablecloth is laid out on the roof and a picnic basket is sitting next to it, along with a cooler with a bottle poking out of it.

Shiro looks from the basket to Keith. His ears look a bit red.

“And _I’m_ the sappy one?” Shiro manages before pulling Keith in for a kiss.

Keith looks like he wants to resort to his standard _‘shut up’_ reply, but instead he smiles. “I just thought it would be nice,” he says, shrugging.

“It is,” Shiro assures him. “How did you do this? We’ve been together all morning.”

“Hunk helped,” Keith mutters. His stomach grumbles again, and he glares down at it.

Shiro chuckles. “Okay, maybe we should eat, then?”

They settle down and start emptying the basket on the tablecloth. Shiro pours some wine while Keith unwraps the food packages.

Eating at the Garrison is hardly a luxurious affair. The canteen is noisy and the food nutritious at the expense of taste, so most people shovel it in quickly before returning to their duties. It makes their rooftop lunch even more meaningful, because not only do they get to eat in solitude but there is no rush and thanks to Hunk the food is infinitely better.

Sitting outside in the sun and feeding each other grapes and bites of chocolate chunk cookies is the very definition of sappy, but then it somehow escalates into a grape-tossing war that ends with Shiro getting decked in the eye.

“Ow! I’m wounded,” Shiro complains, rubbing his hand over his eye. “Kiss it better.”

Keith rolls his eyes but dutifully crawls across the tablecloth to press light fluttery kisses on Shiro’s eyelid, eventually trailing down his cheek and to his mouth.

“I should have you throw things at me more often if this is the treatment I get.” Shiro grins, one eye still closed.

“You seem to be fine,” Keith observes and goes back to his original spot to finish his sandwich.

After eating, Shiro plops down on his back on the tablecloth. He looks up at the sky and groans. “Hunk has overdone himself,” he says, patting his stomach.

Keith’s face appears in his field of vision, surrounded by a halo of fluffy clouds. “Should I be jealous?” Keith asks, smiling.

Shiro slides a hand behind Keith’s neck and drags him down for a kiss. “Hmm. Well, he _is_ a fantastic chef, so I don’t know,” Shiro teases.

Keith snorts and lays his head on Shiro’s chest. A comfortable silence stretches between them. Shiro looks down at Keith’s unruly hair splayed on his chest, and he reaches down to run his fingers through it.

Keith shifts, leaning into the touch. “I like this,” he mumbles.

For a second Shiro thinks he means having his hair touched, but then Keith lifts his head and looks up. “I like hearing your heartbeats.”

There is something vulnerable in his voice, and Shiro is suddenly aware of the implication behind his words. He realizes that despite Keith telling him to stop thinking about the scar, Keith also has his own set of bad memories that he keeps returning to.

Shiro pulls him close and kisses the top of his head where a few strands of hair are always poking out wildly no matter how many hair products Keith tries to tame them with. He grasps Keith’s hand with his own and brings it to his chest, right above his heart.

“Keith,” he whispers. “I will always come back to you.”

Keith exhales shakily against his neck. “I know,” he says. “Just like I will always come back to you.”

Neither of them needs to question these statements. They will continue to synchronize and adjust according to each other’s movements, and they will reach across the realms of death or tear holes in the fabric of the universe to come back to each other. It’s a bond so deep that it can’t be explained in words, but it’s understood in the looks and touches they share.

There are no words, but as they lie on the roof with their hands clasped and pressed against Shiro’s heart, they both _know_.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](https://worldofcopperwings.tumblr.com).  
> -  
> Proprioception is the sense that makes you aware about your body parts in relation to your body and the space around it. It's the sense that makes it possible to walk without looking at your feet and the sense that lets you touch your nose with your eyes closed.
> 
> It felt like an appropriate title for this fic.


End file.
